A Little Child Still Leads

In the busyness of the Christmas rush, our nine-year-old granddaughter, Caitlyn, called us the other night with some instructions. "Dress like people in Jesus' time, hold a small present, look down and then take a picture. You can bring them over to our house on Christmas Eve," she commanded quietly. I did not ask any questions since I am used to our creative granddaughter's imaginative games and role playing. The only aspect to her plan that I expressed reservations about was her command to do all this while we were on our knees. "I don't know if Pop B and I can get up again if we get on our knees," I responded. "O.K.", she acquiesced, "just stand then."

Garlan and I arrived at the Christmas Eve service at the church about forty-five minutes early so that we could reserve an entire row for the family who would be coming in: the other set of grandparents, my son and his wife and two children, plus a visiting uncle from Texas. As we all settled into the pew, I remarked to the one beside me, "Isn't Christmas a great time of year?" She responded by saying she preferred July 4 more and that her upstairs had boxes all over and was generally a mess.

Later, we went to Caitlyn's house. In the midst of many ongoing, and often animated, conversations about politics, sports, and movies and in the spirit of the evening, many drinks being poured, I noticed a small creche to the left of the dining table. It contained a little doll baby wrapped in a blanket. Surrounding it were four pictures: Caitlyn's four-year-old brother, Charlie, carrying a staff; her father dressed as a shepherd, her Pop B dressed as a wise man carrying a candle for Jesus; and me, dressed as a woman of Bethlehem holding a small tin of fruit for the Christ child.

Once again I raised the usual question to myself: Isn't this what Christmas should actually be about? Isn't it Jesus' time to be honored with gifts, not ours? A little child still is capable of leading us to where we need to go.